


Rynx

by Cheesewheel



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Youtube RPF
Genre: Acceptance, Awkwardness, Drama, Flirting, Friendship, Gaming, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Music, Self-Acceptance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesewheel/pseuds/Cheesewheel
Summary: The story of how the musician came to be, and the meaning behind the music.





	1. U-Rite

**Author's Note:**

> Sup people, had this idea for agggggeeessss, so finally thought I'd start it. Don't worry, Missing is still in progress, and isn't about to be abandoned. So sit back, and enjoy!

It wasn’t until Nogla released that fucking video did this shit all start. Really, Evan thought, he had always been partial to creating his own beats, remixing songs for the shear fun of it, an easy way to drift away from the easy chaos that was his life.

But stupid fucking Nogla and his stupid fucking ideas came and messed it all up. His online friendships had been so easy, all the different personalities messing together in a way that kept content fresh, the Canadians tendency to tease making sure the conversations stayed light.

But that fated video left an awkwardness behind, even after Brian blackmailed his fellow Irishman into deleting it, having opened a door into a world none of them had experienced before.

_Tumblr._

With little warning the H2OVanoss ship was sailing, followed quickly by MiniCat and TerrorSnuckel. The other guys teased them relentlessly, tagging and sending various fanart, reading their fanfiction, and generally being dicks. Tyler just told them to fuck off, ignoring Craig’s attempts to dive into the Tumblr world. Brian spent his days pretending to flirt with Brock, whilst the elder just sighed like a disappointed dad.

Evan just wished it had been just as easy for him and Delirious. They mostly ignored the rest of the squad, not even bothering to reply to the spam that filled their inboxes. As individuals they did pretty well, praying for the day it all blew over. But together…

Together, they had gained an awkwardness that was becoming difficult to navigate. They spoke less, keeping the focus off themselves, any interactions becoming like a minefield in Evan’s mind. He didn’t want to admit it, but he and Delirious had a good bond, the pair quick to work together and make the best videos. They had only just finished their Dead Rising series when it all went down, so various comments were like hitting a raw nerve.

But true to their nature, they ignored the damage, slowly moving on. A good three years passed before they mentioned it again, the fandom having returned with a passion from their recent videos, close friendship and various slips like throwing petrol on a fire.

It didn’t help they had only grown closer over time, having gone from only talking when they record to messaging on the regular, sending gifs and memes just to make the other laugh. Delirious eventually admitted he was too attached to his old flip phone to get a new one, refusing to give the reason but dealing with Evan’s need to take the piss.

But Evan’s enjoyment of spending time with the elder left their fans squealing, the Canadian shocked at what he thought they had left behind. He was left worrying if the awkwardness would return, biting his tongue more in effort to contain his riskier jokes, waiting for a disaster that would surely left him scrambling.

It wasn’t like he saw Delirious like that, considering he was straight. There was nothing wrong with being best friends with a dude he never met, and actually enjoying playing with him. He merely respected the American’s need for privacy, unlike most of their friends, and _was not over-protective, thank you Brian._

But then after a rough Gmod session, with just the two of them left in the call, Delirious changed it all.

“They’ve gotta point ya know,” the clown stated, spawning a zombie to throw in a trap. Evan blinked, moving his character to face the other, curiosity replacing his exhaustion.

“What?”

The blue clad gamer paused in his torture attempts, looking up to vaguely face the other.

“The fans and shit. They gotta point.” At the younger confused silence, Del sighed, chair creaking over the call as he continued. “We’d be good together.”

Pausing on his hunt for C4, Evan frowned.

“ _What?”_

His friend let out a grumble of ‘Jesus Christ Evan’, which went ignored as the Canadian attempted to articulate.

“You really think that?” he finally asked, fingers tangling in his headphone cord as he frowned at his screen. Neither of their characters were moving anymore, blank eyes staring back at him, giving nothing away as to the man on the other end of the call. Only that bad quality mic connected them, crackling in his headset as the other spoke once more.

“Well… yeah,” his friend mumbled, finally turning his character away to spawn a melon. “We have the same sense of hum-humour, we make a good team, we get on s-s-super well. Plus, we’re both hot as fuck…”

He trailed off, leaving Evan to be grateful he couldn’t see the blood rushing to the younger’s cheeks, breath sticking in his throat as he croaked his reply.

“B-but I’m straight.”

His anxiety skyrocketed as the elder laughed, before nose diving as his reply.

“No fucking duh, dude. You’re like as straight as a….. as a striper pole!” Delirious crowed, joining in Evan’s laughter as his weird analogy. When they eventually calmed down the American continued, voice cheery. “Nah, I know you’re straight bitch, I was just saying if you weren’t, we make a banging team… literally.”

The younger snorted at that, almost able to hear the other’s eyebrows wiggling at the innuendo, only stopping when the realisation hit him.

“Wait, you like guys?” Silence met his sudden question, leaving him to back track rapidly. “Not that I care, or anything, like who you want. Literally couldn’t care any less who you fuck, don’t even want to think of you fucking, let alone care who or what or anything.”

A soft chuckle cut off his rambling.

“Fucking hell Vanoss, calm down,” Delirious teased, laughing once more at the younger’s done sigh. “I know you don’t care, just like neither of us care what the other’s like. But just so you know, I’m Bi, but don’t go telling no nobody, or I’ll beat your ass.”

“No nobody? So, I can tell everyone you think I’m hot?” he teased, grinning at the disgruntled noise that came back.

“yeah, cause that be a great idea,” the clown snarked back. “Give ‘em more they can use. It’s not like even hinting at anythin’ would be terrible for our jobs or anythin’.”

“Anything huh?” Evan sassed back, before softening his tone. “Do you really think it be that bad?”

The was a beat of silence, tension high once more, before Jonathan let out a long sigh, finally quitting Gmod.

“Yeah, I do,” he murmured, sighing again. “Dude could you imagine? People would bug us constantly, the s-shippers would get worse, it’ll stop being abou’ the gaming. People would unsubscribe cause they’re fuckin’ ho-ho-homophibs, they’ll think they can just butt into our lives and stuff….”

Evan paused, considering the words. He couldn’t deny the elder had a good point, already knowing how tetchy fans could be… And it wasn’t like he was arguing for them to be together or anything. Shaking away the uncertainty, he did what Vanoss does best. Be a dick.

“Homofibs, what are those, lying gay peoples?”

Delirious just laughed, familiar tone echoing over the near empty call, easing the last of his anxiety. Leaning back, he grinned, exiting the game himself to open twitter.

“Wouldn’t wanna risk it anyway, can’t lose my bitch of best friend,” the elder finished, noise of typing filtering through his microphone. Evan snorted in response, eyes rolling.

“Well, when you put it like that… you’re a fucking bitch too.”

The protest was joking, backed with giggles as Delirious struggled to word his offence, leaving the younger laughing along as he scanned his feed.

“Gotta say though,” he continued, carefully wording a reply to Tyler calling him out, “For once, you’re actually right.”

“Fuck yes!” the American cheered back, sending several things clattering on his end. Sighing, chocolate brown rolled.

“Don’t let it go to your head bitch.”

* * *

 

Three weeks later, he found the most accurate song, perfecting the beat to his tastes. Making a new channel, he wondered if he could do this professionally too, something to add some money where his videos lost out. Idea forming, he uploaded the file, wondering if his friend would pick up on the familiar words.

 

  _When you put it like that, like that, like that, like that, you right_

_Nigga think he got it like that, wanna act like that, alright, alright_

_I'm about to have to backtrack, backtrack, track off that, you right_

_You right (when you put it like that, like that, like that)_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_You right, you right, like that, like that_

_When you put it like that, like that_

_When you put it like that, you right, you right_

_(Bitch!) You right, you right_

_You right, you right_

_When you put it like that, like-_

_Already know what you want_

_Bitch, why you keep hitting my phone?_

_Fuck wit' a nigga before, just wait 'til I get in my zone_

_Fuck all this silly talk_

_Marvin (momma) told me never hit it raw_

_Certain shit a nigga pick up on_

_You cannot trick me, the jig is up (the jig is up, the jig is up)_

_(Rule 1!) Never ever give a bitch a clue what you really tryna get into (Two!)_

_Both her friends wanna come with me, tell her good things always come in 3s (Three!)_

_Can't let you walk out that door 'til you show me what that pussy hittin' for (Four!)_

_Not tryna fuck up the vibe, but you got be out by a quarter to 5, hoe (Five, five!)_

_When you put it like that, like that, like that, like that, you right_

_Nigga think he got it like that, wanna act like that, alright, alright_

_I'm about to have to backtrack, backtrack, track off that, you right_

_You right (when you put it like that, like that, like that)_

_When you put it like that, like that_

_When you put it like that, you right, you right_

_(Bitch!) You right, you right_

_You right, you right_

_When you put it like that, like-_

_Bitch, you right, bitch, I think you right_

_I be like, "Bitch, u right", you right_

_When you put it like that, like that, like that, like_

_Bitch, you right, bitch, I think you right_

_I be like, "Bitch, u right", you right_

_Mhh, mhh, mhh_

_Bitch, you right, bitch, I think you right_

_I be like, "Bitch, u right", you right_

_When you put it like that, like that, like that, like_

_Bitch, you right, bitch, I think you right_

_I be like, "Bitch, u right", you right_

_Mhh, mhh, mhh_

_You right_

_When you put it like that, like that, like that, like_

_You right_

_When you put it like that, like that, like that, like_

_You right, you right, you right_

_(When you put it like that, like that, like that, like)_

* * *

 

Two days later, he got a single Discord message, easily locating the meaning behind the words.

**Delirious:**

**_your a bitch and im still right._ **

Laughing, he went back to his game.


	2. Want You

A month later, Evan was pretty sure he had lost his mind. He’d always thought the method of planting an idea in someone’s head was a stupid cliché, never understanding how people obsessed over things enough to keep them awake at night. But now he was stuck in his own inception type shit, unable to move on from this idiotic concept.

_I mean, the thought of me and Delirious? I ain’t gunna date a bitch like him._

Yet no matter how much he brushed off the ridiculous thoughts, they kept coming back.

**_It wouldn’t be that bad…. At least he’s funny._ **

Almost slapping himself, he shoved away his mouse. Rarely did the Canadian game alone, concentration not lasting long enough without someone to troll. But desperate times call for desperate measures, leaving him on an empty Minecraft lobby, chopping down trees and creepers as if his life depended on it.

He was so busy forcing his focus that he didn’t even realise Moo slipped into his lobby, until the discord invite appeared over his character. Blinking in effort to clear the blurriness from his eyes, he accepted the call, slipping his headset on as he turned to his friend’s character stood next to the forest Evan had been systematically destroying.

“Even with the L.A.-Canada time difference, there’s no excuse for you to be up at three am.” Moo apparently wasn’t fucking around, going straight for the point rather than mess about with chit chat.

“You’re up at four, so you ain’t got shit to stand on Brock,” he sassed back, sighing when he failed to get a laugh. “I just can’t sleep, alright? Nothing wrong with that.”

“Not if it’s a one-time thing, no,” the elder countered. “But you’ve been off for days now. What’s up?”

“Nuttin’” he replied, voice flat despite the joke, clicking his mouse rapidly to return to chopping down trees, now with a renewed vigour.

He’d never been one to talk about feelings and shit, preferring to live pretending everything was fine, and find the funniest moments to keep his mood up. Brock often screwed his plans, his oldest friend able to read him too well for Evan’s liking, leaving him with not choice but to think about his emotions. _Eww._

Brock obviously picked up on his rapidly souring mood, as the other gamer just sighed heavily, sounding rather fed up.

“For Christ’s sake Evan, no one’s going to judge you for feeling anything but the need to annoy, you know. We’re your friends, not some nosey fans.” Before the Asian could retort, the elder continued.

“But if you insist on being awkward, try writing it down or make some music or something. Then you can be productive too and Brian can stop bitching about you being boring.”

“I’m not fucking boring!” Evan exclaimed, ignoring the exasperated sigh as he exited his game, opening Terroriser’s Wiki page and clicking edit. _He’d show that Irish dick who’s boring…_

Brock soon left grumbling, ignored by the now giggling Canadian. He sat distracted until the sun rose, finally crashing when the rest of the world began waking. His dreams were filled with laughing moose ridden by Arnolds, and homeless people farming pigs, Evan left to explore a world built by his imagination.

There was a forest on the edge of the farm, a bunny guarding the entrance, easily bribed with the egg he found nearby. Following the trail, he wandered between the trees, enjoying the fading sunlight filtering through the trees, cool breeze ruffling his hair and shirt. The sound of water reached his ears, sounding like bubbly laughter.

Evan followed the noise, easily finding the stream, having to resist the urge to dip his hands in the bright blue water. It was an unnatural glowing colour, almost blinding and looking extremely toxic, but even that couldn’t kill his urge to touch it. It was like it was drawing him in, even more tempting with its dangerous forbidden nature.

He knelt beside it, watching the pizza swim past, pepperonis flapping sedately as they swam between the rocks. His fingers stretched out, feeling the cooler air floating over the surface, skin tingling the closer he got.

His sensible side was screaming at him, yelling about radioactivity and poison, promising a slow and painful death, but Evan couldn’t resist the pull, muting the voice as he held his breath, going for the more stupid option. He went for it.

Eye’s flying open, he shot up, nearly falling off the edge of his bed, sleep heavy limbs scrambling to prevent his face connecting to the floor. His phone and lamp went flying when his arm connected with the desk, elbow stinging from the sharp corner.

And through all that struggle, he still fell and ate shit. _Fucking ow…._

Grumbling, he rolled over, staring at his ceiling amidst the chaos that was now his bedroom floor, rubbing his arm where a bruise was sure to form. The sinking feeling of dread told him both how his day was probably going to turn out, and what exactly his dream had meant, only ever associating that colour with one specific person.

_Don’t you fucking dare Fong,_ he grumbled to himself, shaking the thought away. _You don’t fucking like that clown, you don’t even know what the bitch looks like. Stop being a cliché and fucking get on with your life._

But the idea stayed.

Three days later all the guys had noticed his off behaviour, various questions being thrown at him only to be brushed off as casually as he could manage. He managed to avoid playing with Delirious for a couple days, giving his brain a break from the rush of thoughts that seemed determined to crush him every time he heard that stupid laugh, leaving him feeling both aroused and pissed off.

It left him in a irritating spiral, struggling to be productive as he constantly argued with himself.

_It’s just a shitty idea I’ve got stuck in my head._

**_But it isn’t that bad._ **

_I’m straight!_

**_Nothing wrong with gay people._ **

_No, but I’m still straight._

**_This says otherwise._ **

_….Fuck you._

**_More like fuck Delirious, am I right?_ **

_For the last time, I DON’T WANT HIM!_

**_No, you don’t want to want him._ **

“For shit’s sake, fuck off!” Evan yelled, wishing the silence that followed was more satisfying than it felt. _Stupid brain…_

But then Brian spoke up.

“No need ta be rude, ya bitch,” the Irishman sassed, a touch of worry underlying his tone. Only then did the Canadian remember they were meant to be recording, having been so lost in thought he had phased out completely. His bottle was well hidden in a Terroriser type spot, Brian’s hunter having spend a good two minutes failing to spot him.

Cheeks flushing, Evan scrambled to explain.

“Jesus Terroriser, not everything’s about you,” he snarked back, going for an easy lie. “There’s a fly in here, and it won’t fuck off.”

“Riiiiiiiiight,” Moo drawled, mocha brown narrowing at the doubtful tone. Defences rising, Evan went for the only method he had.

Trolling.

“You got something to say, Lamp? Huh? You wanna go?” Ignoring the hissed “shut up” he continued. “Why don’t you come over here, you skinny piece of shit, instead of hiding by that vending machine?”

Two seconds later Brock was nube tubed, the angry yelling leaving his slip up forgotten and a decent distraction from his own mind. _Thank fuck._

* * *

 

It was once again in the early hours of the morning that he found himself, screen the only source of light in the room. The only sounds were the whirring of computer fans and the clicking of a mouse, headphones keeping the beat contained to his ears, tapping foot muffled by the thick carpet.

He was grinding away at his mixing program, inspiration having struck him, song developing at a rapid pace. The beat had been stuck in his head for weeks, and it was a relief to finally develop it, finding peace in his world of music.

He was so lost in it, it took a minute to realise the abnormal beeping wasn’t, in fact, coming from the app, but rather Discord. He couldn’t help his grin as he saw who it was, with little surprise the older man was also up, despite the confusion his friend had caused. Pausing the music, he accepted the call, leaning back as he called out.

“S’up bitch.”

“Vanoss,” was the response, familiar tone deepened with sleep. “Why you up?”

“So people can keep asking me that, apparently,” he grumbled, before brightening once more. “But messing with music, just so you know. What boot you?”

There was a sound of confusion, the tired man struggling to keep up, before he finally managed a response. “Cool, cool.” Evan snorted. “Shuch up, I’m half ‘sleep,” Delirious whined, earning more laughter from the younger of the two. The other was always easiest to wind up when he was tired, his sleepy complaints giving the Canadian a strange sense of satisfaction.

“Why’re you up anyway?” he asked the American, curiosity winning out over the urge to annoy.

“Had an idea for a video, couldn’t sleep,” was the mumbled response, muted sound of clicking floating over the call. Humming in acknowledgement, Evan turned back to his own screen, dry eyes painful as he tried to focus on twitter. It was mostly quiet, only a pair of simultaneous yawns and following chuckles breaking it, before returning to the comfortable peace.

“Where you bin, anyways?” Delirious finally asked, tone light but interested. The wave of guilt that followed the question was surprising, the Canadian’s stomach turning in a way it hadn’t since he’d been thirteen, having accidently broken his mom’s favourite lamp.

“You know, around,” he stammered back, hand rising to fiddle with his headset cord. There was no way in hell that he was telling Jonathan he had been avoid the elder or why, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about lying to his friend. “Been busy.”

A non-committal hum was given in answer, a soft “oh, ok” tripling his guilt. _Fuck…_

But before Evan could blurt out anything stupid, the elder continued.

“Well you’re here now. Fuckin’ night o-owl,” Delirious teased, making the anxiety ease.

“Shut up bitch, just cause I’m the only one to put up with your night time bullshit.” Grinning at the responding laugh, broad shoulders relaxing. “I’m just glad it’s not full time.”

The pair stayed on the call for hours afterwards, sharing memes and editing tips, laughing at their friend’s antics. They only gave in once the sun rose through Evan’s window, three hours after it had risen for Jonathan, both men incoherent with exhaustion, mumbling vague goodbyes as they shut down their computers.

Evan fell into bed, trying not to think too deeply into the fact just talking to the clown faced gamer had made him feel lighter than he had in weeks. Heavy lids slid shut, but sleep was elusive, his conflicted feelings keeping his mind awake.

**_You can’t keep denying it._ **

_I can do what I want._

**_Apparently not, since you still like him._ **

_I. Don’t._

**_Riiiiiiiiggghhhhhttttt._ **

_You know what, fuck you and everything you stand for. I don’t have to listen to you._

**_Then why do you keep doing it?_ **

_How the hell should I know?_

**_Cause you know it’s true. You want him, even if you don’t want to._ **

He rolled that around his mind for a minute, fighting the urge to admit it. He was straight, he had always been straight. Girls turned him on, not guys. He like soft curves and long hair, everything feminine about them. Just the thought of telling his parents he might not be sent shivers down his spine, dread filling every thought.

Gritting his teeth, he shoved the thought away, instead trying to focus on every reason he wouldn’t want to date Delirious.

_For one, he’s a bitch._

**_Yeah, but you like that._ **

_I know nothing about him._

**_Only cause you’re willing to wait for him._ **

_I have no idea what he looks like._

**_Who cares as long as he laughs._ **

_His laughs annoying._

**_Now you’re just lying._ **

Tanned hands dug in black locks, tugging firmly.

_I don’t want him._

_I don’t want him._

_I don’t want him._

_I don’t want to want him…_

_But I do._

It was like the world froze, everything falling silent, just for a second. His eyes flew open, unfocused eyes locking on the ceiling fan, every muscle stiff as if waiting for an attack. He could’ve heard a pin drop.

Then the barrier broke, emotions flooding so fast he couldn’t register them, only feel. It was like drowning and a first breath all at once. Flying up, tiredness forgotten, wild chocolate hit his guitar.

Maybe he should listen to Brock for once…

* * *

 

It took a month and a half to have the song ready for release, and to say his manager was pissed would be putting it lightly.

Between juggling YouTube, trying to find a singer, recording the lyrics, finalising the track, and paying everyone, the man and Evan had been run off their feet. It was chaos, and the Canadian should’ve really left it, but a sense of urgency had been a driving force, Evan working on little energy and even less sleep to produce his first original track.

And now it up uploaded, he was hesitating.

He hadn’t told a soul who the lyrics concerned, let alone admit to his friends what he had been up too, but there was every chance someone could make the connection.

But something was still screaming at him, the same part of him that argued his denial, that urged him to touch the blue stream. And frankly, the adrenaline was addicting.

So he hit upload.

 

_Always at your doorway when it's dark outside_

_No, I shouldn't be, I'm only yours part-time_

_You're riskin' a lot on me_

_Findin' love's like the lottery_

_Tryna win, but it's hauntin' me_

_All my feelin's fadin', but for you, they're goin' crazy_

_Try to walk away, but end up closer to you, baby_

_Closer to you, closer to you, closer to you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you, I don't wanna want you_

_But I do_

_I'm riskin' everything on you_

_I'm riskin' everything_

_I'm riskin' everything on you_

_I'm riskin' everything_

_On you, on you, on you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't wanna want you_

_But I do_

_I don't wanna want you_

_I don't want you closer, baby_

_But I do, but I do, but I do_

_I don't wanna want you_

_But I do, but I do, but I do, but I do_

_But I do, but I do_

Evan could only pray everything would be ok.


	3. I'm Alright

**Whos it bout?**

He blinked at the message, head still fuzzy after sleeping for twenty hours.

**Wot?**

It didn’t take long for the American to reply.

**the song. Whos it bout?**

His face and mood dropped, head pounding and fingers clenching in the duvet.

**Why?**

It took seconds for Delirious to reply.

**cuz**

Even through the panic, Evan couldn’t help but snort. His friend had always had a strange way with words, plus his terrible spelling had an almost pavlovian effect on his mood, smile starting automatically.

**Ur a bitch.**

**Is it me?**

His phone slipped through frozen fingers, hitting his knee with a painful crack that went unnoticed due to his pounding heart. Breath catching in a suddenly dry throat, several strangled gasped escaped before he finally coordinated his hands long enough to pick the device back up and type a reply.

**Why’d you think that?**

_Feign ignorance Fong, play it safe._

Seconds dragged into minutes, tanned fingers tapping on his now throbbing knee cap, poking the forming bruise in an effort to distract. After two minutes, he stood, tidying his floor of the previous day’s clothes, pretending he wasn’t checking his phone every two seconds.

At five minutes, his jeans were abandoned in exchange for pacing, knotted hair being yanked at as he fretted.

At seven minutes and twelve seconds, his phone pinged.

**Dark outside. only urs part time. risking everythin. dunno probs being stupid but wanted to make sure u wasnt being stupid first.**

He could have denied everything. Said it was about someone else, the lyrics meant fuck all. But something about Delirious’s words hit a nerve he didn’t know he had. Before he could think, he was sending a reply.

**What do u mean, me being stupid?**

The reply was near instant.

**encoraging all the h2ovanoss shit**

It was obvious what his friend was leaning at, and the elder didn’t know how spot on he was, but Evan had never been one for doing what he was told, let alone whilst being insulted. So instead of making up a lie, like a sensible man would do, he poked the proverbial bear.

**And what if I don’t give a shit what other people think?**

Serval minutes passed after that message, the Canadian wandering to his kitchen to start breakfast, stale cereal a metaphor for his life. His phone was buzzing before he could finish, glass screen cold against his cheek.

“What?” was his blunt greeting, already well aware of who was calling.

“The fuck Vanoss?” Jon snapped, anxiety obvious. “Do you f-fuckin’ realise what your-your talkin bout?”

The younger’s voice was cool as he replied.

“I’m talking about not giving a shit about peoples assumptions about me.”

A beat of silence.

“Who is it about Evan?” It was less of a question and more of a demand, tension rising over the call. Jaw gritting, Evan took a few breaths, not used to being so frustrated with his friends or even in general. After dreading his new feelings for so long, a spark of defiance had been ignited, burning away his fear.

So instead of answering, he changed the topic.

“Go on a date with me.”

A beat, then spluttered protests.

“Wha- you- E-ev why- what?!” the elder eventually managed to stutter out, panic twisting his words. Evan refused to let it affect him, calmly repeating himself between mouthfuls of cereal, dumping the bowl in the sink and returning to his office when he was done.

Finally, a tired sigh pulled his attention back from Twitter.

“Why?” Jon asked, sounding done with life.

“Because we’d be good together,” was the easy reply, truth rolling off Evan’s tongue with ease. Fear hadn’t stopped him this far, and it wouldn’t do it now.

“But you’re straight,” the American stated.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter…? Jesus Evan…” Jon whined, before sighing again. “You’ve never met me.”

“Kill two birds with one stone,” he cheeked back, unable to resist sassing his friend. The quiet ‘motherfucker’ that came back made him grin, rocking his chair as Gmod loaded. He needed to find the new Hide and Seek map…

“It would ruin our channels.” Delirious was obviously trying to find as many holes in Evan’s logic as he could, but his friend was obviously underestimating the Canadian’s stubbornness.

Still setting up, Evan replied.

“No, it would get rid of anyone who has a problem with it. And I don’t want those subscribers.”

“Easy for you to say,” the elder grumbled, joining the server. “You’ve got twice as many subscribers as me.”

“Didn’t realise you were so desperate to have homophobes following you.”

“You kn-now I don’t mean it like that,” Jon complained, sounding hurt. The offense finally tugged at the younger’s heart strings, defiance dropping as he reassured his friend.

“I know,” he practically whispered, chewing guiltily on his lip. “Sorry… anyway, we wouldn’t have to tell anyone.”

“They’d find out, and you know it,” the American shot back, before easing off. “They always find out.”

It was a statement of experience, from people hunting down the masked man to the point where they obsessed over an ancient myspace photo, words picked apart until their context was lost. It came from constant messages to show his face, and personal questions they shouldn’t have to answer. It was the reason the gamer even hid from them, determined to take zero risks of being exposed.

But before Evan could reply, Brian managed to interrupt them, sending a flood of messages for them to ‘hurry the fuck up.’ Jon hung up and joined the Discord call without bothering to say anymore, sparking up a conversation about the mall map they were about to play.

Put out, Evan joined as well, struggling to concentrate throughout recording, but brushing of any questioning comments. The session seemed to drag, the urge to make sassy comments every time Jonathan spoke strong, eventually leaving early to ‘Go workout, yes it’s important Nogla’.

But as he shut down his computer, his phone buzzed again, message from Delirious lighting up the screen.

**you know this is best for us, even if ur not alright wiv it. fans would fuck our shit up and its not even as if you like me like that anyway. ur just hate being told wat to do. so behave bitch.**

The spark of frustration was surprising. He didn’t expect to be so annoyed about being turned down, would have just walked away if Jon had just said he didn’t see the Canasian like that, but the excuses were poor and annoying. So instead of replying, he grabbed his guitar.

 

_They can't put no walls around us_

_Oh, when the ceiling crashes down_

_And the roads they paved, they paved too fast for us_

_You gotta prove it if you're fast enough_

_And all my life, I couldn't recognize_

_These people walking 'round, they're living lies_

_And all this time, I couldn't recognize_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_They won't know where to find us_

_'Cause they keep on looking down_

_And what's a game if it's so serious?_

_If we're to blame, then what you see in us?_

_You follow rules and that's not fine by us_

_We're living loud 'cause we can't get enough_

_And all my life, I couldn't recognize_

_These people walking 'round, they're living lies_

_And all this time, I couldn't recognize_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_And all my life, I couldn't recognize_

_These people walking 'round, they're living lies_

_And all this time, I couldn't recognize_

_Yeah, I'm alright_

_Yeah, I'm alright_

_Yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_

_That I'm alright, yeah, I'm alright_


	4. Cry

It had been a month since Rynx’s latest release, and the musician was getting antsy. Whilst the rest of his friends had congratulated his success, teasing about potential lovers and the fans response, Delirious seemed to be ignoring him entirely. Multiple messages were left on read, calls declined, sessions rejected. Even Cartoonz was ignoring him, probably already up to date on the latest gossip in his friend’s life.

His friend was most likely furious with Evan and his incapability to leave anything alone, the Canadian having pushed the American’s patience just too far. It was weird, since the elder was always the easiest going of the group, laughter always hidden behind the yelling. 

It left Evan on edge, spending more time pacing and working out than actually working, declining his own gaming invites to procrastinate. He straight up ignored Brock and Brian’s concern, choosing to rile up anyone who dared make a comment, making them forget his odd behaviour in their own anger, Nogla rage quitting when the Canasian refused to stop winding him up. 

He received a lot of shit for it afterwards but brushed off the complaints like the dick he pretended to be. It was kind of unfair on the Irishman, but the taller shouldn’t be so easy to rile up, in Evan’s opinion. 

It was three days after this incident and twenty-nine since Delirious had spoken to him (not that he was counting), that the knock came at his door one slow afternoon. Well, he said knock, but it was more of an attempt to break the door down, rapid hammering making the wood shake in its frame. 

The Canadian nearly dropped his sandwich, staring warily at the entrance way as he lowered his plate onto the coffee table. The thudding continued, despite the lack of response, making chocolate brown flick to the closet, wondering if he should grab the hockey stick lying within.

But then a familiar voice rang out, sounding frankly pissed.

“VANOSS, OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR.”

Said gamer blinked, mouth gaping as he tried to register the familiar tone. No fucking way...

“EVAN!”

Grin forming, he stood, strolling as slowly towards the door as he could, amusement building at the impatience he could feel oozing in from outside. He’d never give up a chance to wind up his friends, especially when they were already frustrated.

By the time he actually swung the door open, he was worried for his hinges, but the thought vanished when he saw the man stood on his door step.

Delirious, though, didn’t seem to notice his brain stop.

“There you are you son of a bisch, learn to open your fuckin’ d-door. You’re a little shit…”

Jon continued bitching him out, a mixture of nonsense and insults flowing endlessly from him, barely registered by the younger man. Evan was too busy staring, soaking in his friend, cataloging every feature of his face, quirk of his expressions, the violent swing of long arms. His brain refused to co-operate, mouth cracked open, fingers burning with the need to _touch._ Only when the elder started shaking a clenched fist in the Canadian’s face did his body flooded with heat, mind finally kicking in.

Flawless pale skin was flushed with rage, pink defining sharp cheekbones that looked capable of cutting glass. The elders tall frame was narrow but firm, lean muscles pulling at his shirt everything he moved. Dark painted nails were digging into smooth palms, long fingers looking ready to wrap about Evan’s neck.

Brown hair was ruffled in the wind, shiny strands looking the perfect length for tangling fingers into and tugging, dangling into narrowed blue that looked deep enough to swim in.

His friend was finally here, on his doorstep, pissed to all hell, and all Evan could think of was how fucking good the elder would look beneath him.

_Fuck._

“…and y’all ain’t even lis-stening!”

The words finally broke through the Canadian’s hormonal crisis, mocha eyes blinking slowly as he dragged them away from that ridiculously soft looking mouth. Delirious had finally stopped shouting, instead standing impatiently with crossed arms and an expectant look, foot tapping rhythmically against the concrete doorstep. He looked every bit the pissed off man he was, and yet Evan still couldn’t resist.

“Changed you mind about that date then,” the younger smirked, purposely scanning the taller man in a way that stretched that flush from cheeks to neck. Ignoring the spluttered protests, he continued, “I’ll make it the best night of your life.”

That seemed to snap his friend back to his anger, spidery hand shooting forward to grip his shirt as lean muscle shoved past his own bulk, grip yanking him back into the house. Evan just about managed to kick the door shut before he was shoved against the adjacent wall, soft grunt escaping at the impact. His eyebrows rose, both at the rough action and the surprising strength his friend was hiding.

Angry blue silently promised death, forcing him to drop the act and raise tanned palms in surrender, pretending his blood wasn’t running hot at the way Delirious had him pinned. _I need to get laid._ Thankfully Jon decided to let go at the submissive gesture, taking a step back to slump against the opposite side of the hall, tired sigh pulling back the guilt Evan refused to admit he felt.

Jonathan looked exhausted.

Said guilt only mounted when the elder rubbed at his temples, as if trying to chase off the headache that Evan was, brows furrowed in a mixture of pain and frustration. The younger could help but crack when blue met brown once more, anger having been replaced with a swirl of sadness.

Silently, Evan waved the American forward, leading his friend to the kitchen before pointing him in the direct of a bar stool. The metal frame squealed loudly as it was dragged against the floor, a soft sigh of relief easing the younger’s worry as he dug through his fridge. A couple of seconds later he was shoving a beer into a pale hand, watching silently as the elder cracked it open and took a mouthful, unable to resist watching his Adam’s apple bob, wondering if the other would mind if he put his mouth there.

Shaking away the thought, he waited until Jon finished, clearing his throat awkwardly as they made eye contact once more.

“Soooo…” he began, resisting the urge to flinch under the piercing gaze. “Did you really come all this way just to yell at me?”

A beat passed with Evan thinking he was about to get yelled at again, then a familiar snort of laughter, Jon’s worn expression softening in amusement as he straightened.

“You’re a little shit, ya know,” the American commented, lips quirking at Evan’s innocent look.

“Me? No way in hell dude,” he teased back, falling into the easy routine of jokes. “You’re mixing me up with someone else.”

And then the best thing in the world happened. Jon threw his head back, manical giggles bursting forth as his entire being lit up with joy, blue eyes shining as his narrow chest heaved. Evan’s jaw fell slack as he watched, fresh need flooding his veins. But this time it was different, something the Canasian had never felt, something raw and pure pulsing in his chest, so unlike the dark desire his friend pulled forth.

It stole his breath, heart pounding rapidly as Jon began to calm, blue eyes shining with tears of mirth, and Evan knew that he would do anything to keep the elder laughing like that as long as he lived.

Delirious eventually caught his breath, grin still wide as he propped his chin up, elbow resting beside the now half empty beer can, flush now a permanent feature of his cheeks.

“Fuckin’ hate to admit it, but I’ve missed this man. Being mad at you fuckin’ s-sucks,” Jon complained, rolling his eyes at the cheeky look Evan gained, ego having been boost back.

“I’m sorry for being too awesome for you,” the younger sassed back, finally wandering around the counter to flop beside the taller. Nimble fingers opened his own drink, cool liquid soothing his over heated body, elbow brushing against a warm forearm as he placed it back on the granite, snorting the nudge he received in return.

“Calm the e-ego dude,” Delirious muttered, still grinning. “Such a fuckin’ troll.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” the Canadian replied, shoving his friend at the “well…” he received. They shared a brazen look before settling back into silence, only the noise of Delirious slurping his beer disturbing the quiet buzz of Vanoss’s appliances. The elder ignored the looks of annoyance shot at him, slurping louder in response in his own personal revenge.

Evan tried to keep up the glare, he really did, but one the laughter dancing in deep blue pulled his grin back without permission, hiding in his own drink. How the clown faced gamer managed to look hot as hell and adorable at the same time was a mystery, but it melted the musician’s barriers with so little effort he knew he should be scared. But sat in his kitchen, sharing a drink with his best friend, was so easy and light he couldn’t help but let the emotions drift through him, expression softening as he scanned Jon once more, memorising features he had waited years to see.

Jon was all tall lankiness, a deep contrast to Evan’s more compact form, pale skin wildly different to his own tan. Medium brown hair was artfully tussled, pulling off the just rolled out of bed look flawlessly, ignoring Jon’s effort to brush it out of his eyes. His nail polish was chipped as if the elder had been picking at it, finger tips smoothed from the use of various gaming controllers. Pale hands looked like the belonged to a pianist, long limbs flowing just well enough not too look awkward.

The faded Cartoonz shirt was stretched tight across broad shoulder, yet baggy around the elder’s thin waist, worn sweats hiding a faint stain as they covered long legs, battered converse peeking from beneath.

Delirious was a perfect combination of pale skin and sharp angles, long form slouched in an easy s-shape on the bar stool, perfect pink lips pulled into an easy grin as his eyes shone with amusement.

_And talking about those eyes…._

Impossibly blue, Jonathan’s eyes were the piece de résistance, skin tone making them shine like diamonds in the sun. Evan felt like he could watch them for years, wanting to drown in the secrets they held, watch the colour flicker with the elder’s emotions. It was incredibly sappy, and he’d never tell a soul, but he’d break the world if it meant being able to keep looking at them for the rest of his life.

Said gaze caught his, eyebrow raising as Jon took in the look he was being given, eyes rolling as he registered it.

“Stop giving me that mushy look, you dick,” Jon complained, crushing his now empty can as he stood. “Move yur ass and show me the money maker. I’m having withdrawals.”

It took a minute for Evan to realise that Jon wasn’t referring to what was in his pants, but rather his set-up, rolling his own eyes as he tossed their empty cans, gesturing for his friend to follow once more.

* * *

 

Three days later, Evan could barely think how he survived without Delirious for so long. His house had gone from near silent to filled with laughter and shouting, plus the occasional crash of something breaking (not that he cared). His Xbox had moved from his office to the living room, TV bright with the light of COD, ninja diffuses for their eyes only. Various bowls of half eaten popcorn, M&Ms, and chips lay scattered over the table, contents spilling over the pizza boxes and carpet.

Their phones were buried somewhere in the chaos, long forgotten in the barrage of insults and gaming they had burrowed into, faint buzzing lost beneath the screams of laughter. Evan’s house had never been such a mess and whilst that usually would have set of some deep-set OCD, and begun a cleaning binge, right now, he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He was too busy trying to shoot Jonathan in the ass, almost crying with laughter when the elder’s protests send his cold coffee mug flying.

It only got better when the dark liquid ended up over the American’s crotch, sleep sweats staining with the forgotten drink, various swears bursting forth at the mess. It got to the point where he was laughing so hard his elbow landed in his own abandoned cheerio’s, the soggy cereal sloshing over his shirt and face, narrowly missing his watering eyes. Jon burst into his own giggles then, manic sound echoing though the house as Evan attempted to glare him down.

Delirious just laughed harder, doubled over as he clutched at his stomach, blue eyes bright enough to look like stars. Evan’s glare soon morphed into a smirk of mischief, Canadian launching himself at the taller form, tackling it to the ground.

Jon let out a shriek at the attack, long limbs flailing comically as they tumbled downwards. Pale fingers shaved frantically at the strong arms pinning his own, unable to shove the younger away as Evan rubbed his milk-soaked shirt on the other.

They never worked out who managed to catch the table, pulling the stack of bowls down onto the Canasian’s head, stale popcorn landing in both of their hair and Delirious’s open mouth. They both ended up gasping with laughter though, controller’s abandoned as Evan rolled away. Various pieces of food crunched under his back, more than likely ruining his carpet and his shirt.

But laying there, in the mess that had become his floor, best friend giggling hysterically next to him, the younger decided he wouldn't change it for the world.

* * *

 

 

 

It took another five days for Jon to eventually leave, and a mere six hours for Evan to clean everything up and find a new source of inspiration for Rynx. But this time, after weeks of slaving over his virtual studio, he showed Jon before he stuck it on the internet.

“It’s good,” the elder admitted over discord, once the song faded away. Evan couldn’t help but relax, nerves melting at the praise. “Dunno why you showed me though.”

Eyes rolling unseen, the Canadian leant back, chair creaking as he twirled his headphone cord.

“Well last time I posted, you didn’t talk to me for a month,” he sassed back, lips quacking at the grumbles he got back, before hasting to continue before Jon could actual speak. “Just thought it be good to give you some for warning.”

The snort that echoed across the call made him grin properly, Twitter scrolling past unseen as he waited on a reply.

“Thanks… I guess,” the elder drawled, sounding less than impressed, before perking up with his next question. “It’s still about m-me though, isn’t it?”

The smug undertone made Evan roll his eyes again, but he decided to settle the hidden worry rather than knock Jon’s ego down a peg.

“No one will know,” he reassured, abandoning Twitter for Reddit. “Yeah, sure, some Tumblr kid will probably make an assumption, but it’s not like they’ve got proof of shit.”

Jon just hummed, call falling silent as both men drifted into their own thoughts, Evan enjoying the memory of the American sprawled across his table, demanding food. His house had felt emptier than ever since the elder left, with nothing but his own thoughts for company, echoing loudly in his head.

It was loneliness, he realised, shoulder slumping. He had been so happy with Jon around, spending their days laughing and being idiots. It had been heaven on Earth, and now he was left longing, wondering if the elder would ever come back, and how Evan would survive if he didn’t.

Luckily, Jon knocked him from his thoughts before they became too dark, mic crackling as he spoke once more.

“Wait, what do you mean you wanna make me c-c-cry?” the elder spluttered in shock, sounding offended.

Evan just laughed.

  
_I was a ghost that couldn't leave that world behind me_  
I didn't know I needed someone who could quieten my mind  
  
You walked in, I wanted to jump you  
I'd fallen, but I tried to keep cool  
It's cliché, but I got to tell you  
  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna let you know you're mine  
I just wanna fuck you all the time  
I just wanna make a grown man cry  
  
I felt awake because you started to remind me  
It's no mistake that we both like space and David Attenborough  
And lemonade and anime  
  
You walked in, I wanted to jump you  
I'd fallen, but I tried to keep cool  
It's cliché, but I got to tell you  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry  
You walked in, I wanted to jump you  
I'd fallen, but I tried to keep cool  
It's cliché, but I got to tell you  
  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna let you know you're mine  
I just wanna fuck you all the time  
I just wanna make a grown man cry  
  
I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna let you know you're mine  
I just wanna fuck you all the time  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry  
I just wanna let you know you're mine  
I just wanna fuck you all the time  
'Cause I just wanna make a grown man cry

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All music belongs to RYNX and I don't own people.


End file.
